The Ballad of Kali, Star-Destroyer, and the Lily of Death
by An Author's Pen
Summary: A teen assassin cuts ties with her family, teaming up with a bratty torchic to make a fresh start as a pokemon trainer. Can she—can she even do that? The past isn't always a shell that you can shed.
1. The Starter

Professor Birch blinked in confusion at the young woman standing outside his lab. She was somewhere in her mid-teens, draped in an oversized leather jacket that Birch vaguely registered as designer. Her dark-washed jeans were tucked into knee-high red boots. The buzz-cut that stretched over only half of her head was either a serious razor mishap or the latest in fashion. Recalling a recent commercial for Devon's Mark X PokeNav, Birch guessed the latter.

"Are you sure you're in the right place, Ms—" He tried to remember the short, plain-text email "—Mortis?"

The girl nodded, a broad smile on her face. "I am, Professor Birch. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."

Off-balance at this pleasantry—Birch spent most of his time with ten-year-olds on the verge of temper tantrum—he stepped aside to let her into his laboratory.

She took in the disordered desk-space with a sharp, evaluative glance, eyes darting up to the windows that lined the lab.

"It's just a little unusual, choosing to get a lab starter this late," Birch continued, following her in. "If you're looking for a more, _erhem_, high-powered pokemon to catch you up to your peers, a breeder would be your best bet or a commercial reseller—"

"I want a lab starter," the girl said flatly. "It's traditional."

Traditional for trainers who lacked the money to pick up a more advanced or exotic starter, Birch didn't say. By the look of her clothing, she certainly had the option.

"Excellent," he chose to boom instead. "You're right, of course, Ms Mortis—"

"Please, Professor, call me Lily."

"Lily, right, well you see, it's the off-season, and I'm afraid I don't have much of a selection to offer you. All I have left is a single torchic, and she's a bit—"

"I'll take her," the girl said instantly.

"Right, right." Professor Birch fumbled around his desk, until he found the pokeball. He stared for a moment at the yellow post-it note affixed to the ball, which read, "Spoiled little bastard. Save for coordinators."

Birch looked back over to the girl, who was following his movements closely. Something about her posture struck him as strange. She wasn't slouching even a little.

Well, a more mature trainer should be able to handle a badly-behaved starter . . .

Birch clicked the release mechanism. Well-informed by past experience, he made sure to aim the light away from either of them. The torchic that emerged dove forward, its beak tensed. Finding no target for her peck attack, the torchic chose instead to direct a glare at the two human occupants of the room.

"Meet Torchic," Professor Birch said, "She's, er, got a lot of personality."

"Look at you!" cooed the girl. To Birch's amazement, she managed to lift the torchic without getting pecked and squeeze it to her chest. "She's perfect, Professor."

"Wonderful, wonderful," Birch murmured, still feeling off balance. He could see the torchic was squirming frantically, but the girl's grip was iron. "Now, let me walk you through the starting essentials." He stared at her small, silver backpack, which bore the bright gold logo of MiniMex. "Sleeping roll, tent, rations, don't forget potions..."

"I have all that, Professor," the girl said patiently.

"And don't forget antidotes. The poison types in Petalburg forest have quite the sting!"

"Not really," the girl said. "If you mean shroomish poison, that's only fatal once it's been heavily distilled."

Birch and the girl stared at each other. The torchic gave up its futile struggles and settled on a piercing glare that promised fiery death for both of them as soon as she properly perfected ember.

"Is that so," Birch said in a distant voice. "Is that so. Are you—are you looking to go into research, Lily?"

The girl shook her head. "You'll be wanting your fee," she said after a moment.

"Yes." Professor Birch blinked when the girl held out a 100,000 yen note. "Er, give me a moment, I must have change somewhere..." He glanced helplessly around the messy lab.

"You can keep it. Is there anything else?"

"No," Professor Birch said. "Nothing else..."

Three hours later, he had almost managed to forget the whole encounter. That is, until the door of his lab exploded inwards, and a band of masked men strapped him to a chair, demanding to know what, exactly, his business had been with the Lily of Death.

~0~

Kali, Star-Destroyer, was having a miserable day. It had been the project of many months to get the loud-mouthed human to keep his hands to himself. But in the last hour she had been poked, prodded, and squeezed to her limit, until at last the human girl had set her down on the ground and continued down the road, humming. Kali had followed out of a lack of better options. She had no idea where food could be found in this damp, unpleasant forest. Humans, despite their myriad of failings, were at least a reliable source of food.

Kali made a point of keeping her distance, her gaze fixed on the surrounding trees, not the human. It took her a moment to register that the human had come to a stop and was conversing with another of her kind.

The other human was a little shorter, with hair the color of mud. Her hair matched the mud sploshed over her clothing.

"Wait," the other human was saying, "You just, you just have a torchic? Are you kidding me, or ..?"

Kali's human smiled broadly. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry to be bothering an experienced trainer like you. It's just, you see, my family would never let me go on a pokemon journey. I mean, they'd kill me first, you know? So this is my first day as a trainer, actually."

"Oh." The other human's face crinkled in sympathy. "No, I get it. That sucks. Hey, I just caught a nincada to train up. He might make a decent match for your torchic. How about we have them battle?"

Kali's human bit her lip, her eyes glittering. "Are you sure? That's so sweet of you."

Kali observed with interest as the other human's face went red. "S-sure, it's no problem. Come out, Diaspa!"

"Torchic!" her human called. "Time for our first battle!"

Kali, Star-Destroyer, eyed her opponent unenthusiastically.

"Start off with peck!" her human bubbled.

Kali supposed it would be unbecoming to do nothing. She wouldn't want to appear frightened of such a dirty, ugly little bug. All the same, this hardly called for her full, awesome strength. She jogged forward to make a half-hearted peck attack.

"Harden, and then use sand-attack."

Kali coughed as a flurry of dirt was flung in her face. She shook her head back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut, trying to get herself clean.

"Great! Follow up with scratch."

Those claws _hurt_! Kali fell to the ground, feeling miserable.

"Uh, I guess that's it," the other human said, sounding sheepish. "Seems like you and your torchic aren't really in sync yet."

Kali's human laughed. "I guess we have some work to do!"

"You know...I caught a surskit today, on my way down. I think I'll be sticking with nincada as a bug type, so if you're looking to build out your team...?"

"You want to give it to me?" Kali's human said flatly. "Why?"

"Uh, well, I don't need her and I figure, it's not your fault you've had to start so late..."

"You're a kind soul, aren't you," Kali's human said after a moment of silence.

"I-I don't know about that..."

"Thank you, but I want to catch my second Pokémon on my own. That's the traditional way, right? But thank you, and keep safe!"

"I wonder if all pokémon trainers are like that," Kali's trainer mused as they walked along. "So naive. And you—" Kali realized she was being addressed and narrowed her eyes "—you don't like me, huh?" The human sounded amused. "That's okay! We've got time."

The human slowed her pace suddenly and Kali almost tumbled into her. She was peering at the path up ahead with a frown. "Hm, I'd better check that out."

When Kali looked back up, the human had vanished. Kali swiveled her head around, searching, but there was no trace of the human anywhere. Kali hadn't realized they could move so fast.

_Well, good riddance!_ Kali thought, but the grumble of her stomach reminded her that she was very hungry. Still, did she really need the human for that? If she just followed the road, surely she would come to another human place where they would feed her. Mind made up, Kali strutted forward.

How nice, to walk alone, owning the road. A torchic in full control of her destinyyyyy—

"T-chik-aaa!" The ground erupted under her and Kali was thrown upwards. She squirmed from side to side, trying to get free, but horrible plastic netting blocked her on all sides.

"Hey, we've got a hit! Oh damn, it's just a torchic."

"Hang on, torchic don't come wild around here. And remember what the old prof said? Bet you anything that's the Lily's pokemon."

"Hey, not a bad thought. But who cares if we got this little stinker—the boss wants us to get Lily back, not her dinky starter."

"Use your head, Phil. If we have the pokemon, the Lily is sure to follow."

"What, for a little pipsqueak like this? She could grab a blaziken off the black market in no time."

"Yeah, yeah, but it's principle right? The top-tier assassins are weird that way. Doesn't matter how weak it is, long as it's hers."

"Sounds crazy to me, but it's worth a try, I guess."

When they hauled the net down, Kali was ready. She struck out with avenging fury, her steely beak tearing through their weak skin—

"Ouch! Mouthy little thing. You got a shock collar handy, Phil?"

"Must have one somewhere. Hang on."

A dark, foul-smelling strip of plastic clicked around Kali's neck. When she tensed for another peck attack, a horrible bolt of pain raced through her body. She fell limp.

"That's the ticket. Now come on, let's get back to the others. I feel exposed out here."

_Misery_, Kali thought hazily. Hah! She hadn't known what misery was. This was misery, every pinion aching and her head a cloud of painful fog. The swing of the net made her stomach roll. She kept her beak clamped shut, fearing that at any moment she would retch up over herself.

"Hey team, we made a catch!"

"What, that little fire chick? That's nothing. We found a trainer who actually spoke with her!"

"Oh yeah? Anything on where she went?"

"Nah … But she did confirm that torchic's her only pokemon."

"Hang on, if we've got her only pokemon, where exactly is she?"

A troubled silence fell.

"You don't think she's been—"

Something crashed through the window. Kali strained to see what was happening, but all at once the air was filled with thick smoke. Kali pressed her eyes shut against its acrid sting. Guttural cries of pain rose into the air around her.

Then Kali was being swung off the table and out into the open. She gulped in the fresh spring air greedily. Strong but gentle hands untangled her from the netting and clipped the collar from her throat.

Kali flinched as cold spray hit her wings, making them sting, but the sting only lasted a moment, and almost instantly, the ache lifted. Kali opened her eyes slowly to find her human studying her.

"How are you feeling?"

Kali didn't know what expression her face twisted into, but it must have made her feelings clear, because the human chuckled softly. "Okay, stupid question. You're just a little thing, aren't you, Princess?"

When the electric-shock men had called Kali little, it had made her want to fight. But the strange note of sympathy in the human's voice undid her.

To her horror, Kali found her body beginning to tremble. When the human held out her arms, she pressed herself into them, comforted by the warmth and the firmness of the human's grip.

"I'm sorry," the human said after a moment. "I could have grabbed you back right after they netted you of course, but I wanted to see how many goons Ma sent after me. These low level grunts are like rattata, you know, they've got a herding instinct. Best to smoke them out together. I didn't think—you've never done anything like this before, have you?"

Kali shook her head, still trembling.

The human let out a sigh. "Right. I guess I didn't think this through so well. Look, this is my life. Ma wants me back and I doubt these goons will be the last she sends after me. I thought a traditional pokemon journey would be the best way to start fresh, you know? But maybe I should just nick a couple of power fighters. Maybe that would be best. Listen, what do you say? I can drop you back off with that professor today. He'll find you a place with a more normal trainer."

Kali opened her eyes, her mind whirring furiously.

This human had saved her. She had saved her because she was strong and Kali was weak.

Was she going to trot home with her head lowered? Or was she going to become strong—strong enough to fight off every miserable electric-shock human?

There was only one choice that was worthy of Kali, Star-Destroyer.

The human set Kali down on the grass, next to her pokeball.

"Stay by your pokeball if you want to go back home," the human said. She didn't give another option.

Kali frowned. The human was that sure of how she would choose? She stepped forward, away from the pokeball, until she was back at the human's feet. She let out a loud, indignant squawk.

"You still want to come with me?" Surprise was bright in the human's voice. Kali nodded, fluffing up her fur. She worried, suddenly, that the human would reject her. Say that a _little fire chick_ had no place at her side.

"In that case, can I give you a bit of advice?"

Kali looked up to find her human smiling.

"Next time, aim for their eyes."

* * *

a/n: Based on this prompt from Farla: "Super assassin girl who's killed hundreds just wants to go on a walkabout with some L5 fluffball. Her family sends wave upon wave of ninjas after her to force her back into the family business and she has to fight them off with her 1337 skillz and many throwing knives in time to get to her first gym battle!"

This story seems to have acquired plot, so, uh, stay tuned?


	2. The Friend

Casey Nguyen, pokemon trainer and proud holder of the Heat Badge, stared morosely into her onion soup. Despia nibbled lightly on her sleeve, and she let out a sigh, slipping the nincada another honey cookie under the table.

"I hope she's okay..." Casey said again.

At her side, Plomper let out a loud huff. The azumarill tended to get grumpy in the evenings, when she'd gone the day without a soaking.

"She's only got a torchic, Plomper, and those guys looked nasty ..."

Men like that didn't tend to bother Casey. They took one look at her mud-stained trousers, multi-pocket vest, and full belt of pokeballs, and decided she wasn't worth the effort. But that girl...she had target written all over her, from her glitzy clothes to her open smile.

And those men had asked a lot of questions.

Casey pushed her soup away, feeling sick to her stomach. She'd been watching the lobby of the Petalburg pokecenter for over three hours now, hoping to catch sight of the girl. But it had been no use.

"Oh my god, Plomper, what if they mugged her? What if she's lying unconscious somewhere."

Plomper managed to communicate in another huff that it was none of their business if she was.

Casey's fingers began to tap against the plastic surface of the table. "You know what, no. We've got to check this out. Plomper—" A whine entered her voice. "I'll give you an extra long soaking when we get back. Please?"

Plomper made a show of deliberation, her tail undulating slowly inward and out. "Azu," she said at last.

Casey breathed out. "Great. You're the best."

The sun had set only a half-hour ago, but darkness came on quickly in this part of Hoenn, where there were no street lights to cut the night. Casey pulled her oversized PikaPower flashlight out of her rucksack and set out, back down the route.

After fifteen minutes of poking through bushes, Casey began to feel a little silly. This wasn't exactly the middle of nowhere. Even someone in a pretty bad way would be able to make it from Oldstown to Petalburg.

Her flashlight caught on something dark and funnily-shaped sticking out from one of the bushes. Almost... bootlike in its shape. Frowning, she moved closer to examine it.

"Toooorchikaaa!"

Before Casey could fully register the attack, Plomper reacted with a powerful water gun. The torchic flew back and crumpled in a heap.

Casey and Plomper exchanged a look. "Isn't that torchic..."

"Oh my gosh, Princess, you silly little thing." The girl stepped out of the shadows. "You've got to learn the difference between a friend and an enemy."

Casey tried to tamp down her grin. "You're okay!"

The other girl's expression was hard to make out in the sparse moonlight. "Me? I'm okay. Why are you out this late?"

"I, uh." Faced with the undeniable fact that the other girl was fine, Casey's worries began to feel stupid. Insulting, even. "There were some pretty nasty guys," she muttered at last, "asking questions about you. I just wanted to check that—that you were okay, you know?"

There was a long, thick silence, broken only by the high howl of a poocheyana.

"Wow," the girl said at last. "I've only been doing this a day, and I've already got a friend?"

_A friend?_ Casey's heart warmed. "Yeah!" she said. "I'm Casey!"

"I'm the—my name's Lily."

Casey looked back over at the bushes. "I thought I saw something over there… a boot..."

"It's probably a log," Lily said firmly. The moonlight caught on her flaxen hair. "Logs look like all sorts of things in the dark." Her hand closed around Casey's wrist, not tight, but not really negotiable, either. "Can you show me the way to Petalburg? I think I'm a little bit lost."

"Oh, of course!" Casey pointed her PikaPower light forward. "Just stick close to me," she said, beaming. "I'll get you there safe."

~0~

Kali, Star-Destroyer, screamed in dismay when her warm covers were ripped cruelly away. She blinked blearily around the room, until her eyes landed on the open window. There wasn't a single speck of light in the sky! This was a mistake, it had to be.

"Oh, stop your whining," Kali's human said flatly. "I've let you sleep long enough. It's nearly five am."

Five am was a sleeping time. How did she not know this? Kali tried to explain, but the human was ignoring her, humming as she sorted through a stack of red-hilted knives on the bed. "I don't think Ma will try a full-force assault on a pokecenter," she mused out loud. "Too attention-grabbing. So either she'll send someone with a bit of stealth, or she'll wait until I'm in transit again. Which means now is the perfect time to upgrade you from completely useless to mostly completely useless."

Kali groomed her pinions in hurt silence. Unfortunately, her human seemed to take her silence for agreement. Her knives disappeared one by one back into hidden pockets. "Right, let's get started."

It was cold outside, a nasty, damp, everywhere kind of cold that burrowed between her feathers.

"You can't use fire moves yet, can you?" Kali's human asked. Kali shook her head unhappily. It wasn't like she hadn't tried.

"That's not a problem. The fire will come with time. Has to do with the development of your internal heat glands. There's no rushing that. So we'll be focusing on your peck attack. You can do a lot of damage with peck, no fancy moves necessary. Now, a physical move has two components: power and precision. We're going to start with precision. Power is nothing without precision." Kali's human spoke these words in a sing-song voice. She stood still for a moment, a slight scowl on her face, staring blankly into the distance.

"Chik-chick?" Kali asked.

Kali's human shook herself slightly and continued speaking as if she'd never stopped. "You have to keep in mind that everything has a weak point. That's just the rule of life. Once you've found that point, everything follows from there. Take a golem. You look at that thick, rocky shell, and you'd think they were invincible, right? But the skin underneath those shells is so soft and unprotected that the tiniest thorn, slipped into a crevice in the shell, will throw them into complete torment. Let's start with nincada, though, since you didn't seem to have the first clue how to fight it."

Kali's human held up a holo-projection of a nincada. "Where should you make your attack?"

Kali stared at the holo-projection. It stared back sightlessly. Kali yawned. She couldn't help it! The yawn just burst out of her.

"Right," Kali's human said tightly. "I can see this is going to require some acclimation." Kali didn't like the faint smile on her human's face. "Let's get you warmed up with some drills, shall we?"

~0~

Kali was on the verge of a faint when her human finally said, "I suppose it's time to replenish your calories."

She was infinitely grateful when the human lifted her up and carried her back into the pokecenter. The feeding room was mostly empty, but the trainer from yesterday was there. She waved wildly at them from her seat.

With a small smile, Kali's human prepared a plate of poke food. Kali noted dismally that it was a smaller serving than the loud-mouth human had given her. She contemplated pitching a tantrum, but some nasty instinct warned her that doing so might mean forfeiting her meal altogether.

Kali's human didn't take anything for herself except a plastic-wrapped bar.

Kali ate ravenously, listening with half an ear as the mud-haired human spoke. "I've been a trainer for three years now. It was a bit on and off—I was an intern at my mom's office for a summer, but it wasn't really my thing. So I'm working on badge five now, but Norman is rough. He creamed me pretty bad the first time I challenged him. Only I've got a strategy now. I'm going to evolve Despia here into a shedinja. Norman's pokemon won't be able to lay a paw on her."

Kali's trainer made an encouraging sound.

"But, uh, what about you? Roxanne's usually the best gym for first-timers, but you're gonna have a tough time of it with just a torchic, even if you can get her evolved."

"We're taking things slow," Kali's human said firmly. "I think we'll stick around here a bit, maybe catch our first pokemon." She paused, lashes lowered. "Um, can I ask you a favor?"

"S-sure!"

"Your nincada. Could I borrow her for an hour or so? Princess had _so_ much trouble fighting her yesterday. It would be great to be able to train with her, so Princess can learn to do better."

"Oh!" The mud-haired trainer sounded surprised. "Sure, I guess. I mean, it would be training for Despia too, in a way. I was thinking of getting in some snaps this morning anyway, so, yeah, not a problem!"

"Snaps?" When she didn't understand something, the false layer of cheer left her human's voice.

The mud-haired trainer blushed. "Uh, yeah, so I'm pretty into photography. I'm not great or anything, just an amateur, but I try to practice when I can. And the light is best right around now. It's called the Golden Hours—the time right after sunrise and right before sunset."

"I see."

Though, Kali thought, munching at her chews, it didn't really sound like she did.

"Aren't you going to eat a hot breakfast?" The mud-haired trainer asked after a moment. "Pokecenter food is a little carby, but it's better than pre-wrap."

"I've got a ...sensitive stomach," Kali's human said slowly. "I think I'd better stick to the granola until I'm sure everything at this pokecenter ... agrees with me."

"Oh, gotcha. Yeah, I'm dead allergic to lactose, so I know what you mean." She shoved the last bite of waffle into her mouth and chewed happily. "Hey, I'm gonna head out while the light's still good. Here's Despia's pokeball. Catch you later, yeah?"

Kali was digging happily back into her bowl of chew, when she finally noticed her human's brooding silence. She jabbed her beak experimentally at her human's hand—which was gone before the peck attack could land, wrapped suddenly around her throat, lifting her a foot into the air and then setting her back down.

"Is that girl insane?" Kali's human said, seemingly unbothered by Kali's failed assault. "I mean, lend your pokemon to a stranger, that's one thing. Lend your pokemon and explain your deadly allergy as well? That's pretty much like asking to die with a cherry on top, isn't it?"

Kali didn't think so. But she nodded anyway, hoping her agreement would win her a second helping of munch.

Unfortunately, the ploy backfired. Kali's human glanced down at her bowl and said, "Oh good, you've finished eating."

At least the sun was up, Kali thought, as she trailed her human around to the back of the pokecenter. The sun centered her, reminded her why she'd chosen to stick around. She wanted to become strong, and it was already clear strong didn't always mean comfortable.

Kali looked up at the click of a pokeball releasing.

"This is a nincada," Kali's human said, holding up the bug pokemon by its head. "Now, where do you aim your attack?"

Kali tried to concentrate. _Aim for the eyes_, she remembered her human telling her. But the nincada was gazing sightlessly past her. Its eyes were covered by a thin white sheen.

"Good," Kali's human said after a moment, startling her. "You're using your head. Nincada have three major vulnerabilities. First, the antenna. They track their opponents though the vibrations their antenna pick up. That means if you can render the antenna defunct, the nincada will be close to helpless. Second, the wing slits. As a general rule, wings tend to be more tender than other parts of the body. The point where the wings meet the body is even more so. Aiming there, you'll cause some serious pain. Third, the underbelly. Not always easy to reach, but a flipped pokemon is doubly helpless, so if you see your way to exposing the underside, you're in a perfect position to strike." Kali's human pinned Kali with a sharp gaze. "Are you getting all of this?"

Kali nodded quickly. She could see it, now that the human had explained. The way the nincada's antenna twitched, following their conversation uneasily. The thin slit where its fledgling wings poked out. The thinner shell that covered its belly.

"Excuse me," the nincada said icily. "This is all very educational, I'm sure. Can you please confirm that this is a theoretical lecture? That, erhem, no _practical demonstration_ will follow?"

Kali started guiltily. She'd almost forgotten it was a real nincada, not a particularly life-like projection.

"Sorry," Kali said, "I don't really know. My human does what she wants."

"The next logical step is to put what I've been telling you into practice," Kali's human said. "But..." Her face suddenly troubled, she looked down at Kali. "Would it be bad manners to break what I borrowed?"

"Yes!" The nincada shouted, beginning to struggle in her grip. "It would be bad manners! Tell her it would be!"

Kali nodded hastily.

"I suppose you're right. Oh well. I guess we'll just spend the rest of the morning on drills."

"You owe me one," Kali shouted at the nincada as it quickly skittered a safe distance away. She danced frantically to the side as a metal star whizzed narrowly past her head. "You seriously owe me, Bug-brain!"

"You've got a psycho trainer," the nincada commented, watching Kali twist and leap with a hint of malevolent glee. "Yep, you got a real looney-tune human there."

It was funny, though. As Kali moved through the air, ducking and turning, she began to find a kind of calm in it. The world had narrowed to something incredibly simple: movement or pain.

Panting heavily, the sun hot on her back, it took Kali a moment to realize that the onslaught had come to an end. Her human was smiling.

"Yes," her human said. "That's right. You find the place where the world moves around you."


	3. The Capture

Kali, Star-Destroyer, was trying to clear her mind. It wasn't easy. It might have been easier if she'd had a fuller belly, but once again her human had only allowed her a single scant bowl of munch.

A finger jabbed sharply into her side and Kali fell over with a squeal.

"No, no, no." Kali's human sighed. "Clear your mind doesn't mean dull your senses. It's —you put yourself inside of yourself, so that you see the world but the world doesn't see you. Like being a leaf in the wind. You can be moved but you can't be altered."

Kali stared blankly up at her human. They were back in that nasty patch of forest between the two towns and the dirt was unpleasantly soggy.

"Like this."

Kali's human sat herself cross-legged on the dirt, shutting her eyes. Her breathing slowed to a pulse so regular it was almost a compulsion. Kali felt her own breath slowing to match.

She kept her eyes open, though. If her human tried the finger again, Kali would be ready.

Movement caught her eyes . . . a flat, red horn approaching across the green grass. Kali sprang to her feet, but her human's hand stopped her, putting pressure on her head until she sat back down.

"Breath," said her human.

If the human wanted to be attacked, fine! She could fight without Kali's help.

Kali sat down in a huff and tried to resume the same slow breathing. When she craned an eye open, she could see the red horn beginning to approach again. The horn protruded from a green helmet, that mushroomed over a frail-looking white body. The strange pokemon floated towards them, until it hovered only a foot away from the human's face. It extended one delicate appendage—

The human's hand shot out, faster than Kali could blink, and latched around the pokemon's neck. Her other hand came forward in a punch to its head. The green helmet wobbled and then the pokemon collapsed to the ground.

"Psychic pokemon," Kali's human said, rolling her eyes. "A tap to the head almost always does for them. It's the arrogance, you know. Since they've got a sixth sense, they don't usually bother with the other five."

She eyed the downed pokemon. "This was really supposed to be an exercise for you. Oh well. I suppose it's our first capture." She drew a pokeball out of her bag and opened it against the pokemon's red-horned head.

The ball only shook once before clicking shut.

~0~

Tsifor came to consciousness slowly, struggling to organize her mind against the cascade of new information. She was in some kind of human settlement. Everywhere minds buzzed and pulsed, like the forest at the peak of mating season.

_Pain_ . . . the sensation made her wince in sympathy, until she heard a loud rumble. _Hunger-pains_. Usually she wasn't sensitive enough to pick those up.

Opening her eyes to examine her surroundings, she saw that she was lying on a bed in a small, enclosed room. A torchic was slumped over the pillows and a human was watching her.

Tsifor frowned. One torchic. One human. That made two. But there was only one mind that she could sense in the room.

_Hello?_ she said cautiously, sending out _warmth_ and _greeting_.

"Hi," chirped the torchic, poking its head up. "Hey, what exactly are you?"

_My name is Tsifor-ka. I am a ralts. Is this human defective?_

The torchic frowned. It aimed a ferocious peck attack at the blank-human's back, but didn't make it more than a couple of inches.

"Nope, not defective," squeaked the torchic, as it hung upside-down from the human's hand. "Everything appears to be in working order."

_Then where is its mind?_

"Uh. . . ." The torchic seemed to contemplate this from where it hung. "That sounds like a pretty personal question."

The blank-human was watching Tsifor with a small smile. Something about it made her uneasy. She jumped when the blank-human suddenly spoke. It was strange to hear intelligible sounds from something without a mind.

"Hi, my name's Lily. I'd ask for your name, but I suppose you really can't tell me when I'm shielding. I'll try not to call you something too embarrassing, okay?"

It winked. Tsifor looked over to the torchic to make sure this was normal. The torchic shrugged.

What did she mean, _shielding_?

Tsifor tried to focus on the blank-human. She'd been wrong, thinking there was no mind. There was something there, but it was clouded by gray static, impossible to make out.

"You're going to teach Princess here how to protect her mind. I don't know how long that will take. Guess that'll depend on how good a teacher you are and how bad a student Princess is." It set the torchic down. "Once that's done, I'll let you out right where I got you, if that's what you want. So, do we have a deal?"

A chance to leave the home patch? Tsifor found her heart beginning to speed.

_Enthusiasm_ and _excitement_, she signaled, though the emotions faltered when the blank-human's face didn't change. Tsifor looked over to the torchic, wondering how to communicate her response.

_How do you speak with the human?_

"Move your head down and then up for yes," the torchic said. "Turn it right and then left for no. Uh . . . but don't say no, okay?"

She felt concern emanating from the torchic, mixed with a faint, guilty curiosity. She moved her head down and then up.

"Great!" the human said. "This carrot no stick thing seems to be working all right. Now, first things first."

She rummaged around in her silver pack and pulled out a ring set with a large gemstone, a milky white threaded with turquoise and gold. The gem had a strange, almost beckoning presence. Tsifor drew closer without intending to.

"This gem conducts psychic energy," the blank-human said. "Paired properly, it can be used as a relay. I want you to focus on the gem, and send it a full pattern of yourself, all right?"

That sounded simple enough. Like saying a proper hello, only to a gem instead of a speaker.

_I am Tsifor-ka_, she sent. _I was the youngest of three. When I was still small, I strayed from the home den, and was picked up by a tailow. I lived a whole moon in her nest, before my family found me. They say that is why I have all the traits of a bird—far-ranging and flighty, quick-witted but impatient. Maybe they are right. I have always thought that if I had been born with wings, I would fly high enough to make the world into something smaller than me._

"Excellent."

Tsifor raised her head, startled. The gem was pulsing a brilliant red. After a moment, the color faded, but the gem still radiated familiar energy.

"The sync is complete." The blank-human slid the ring onto her finger. "As I said, this is a simple one-way relay. It's attuned to pick up any strong emotions you emit. This is a safety mechanism, you see? If something puts you and Princess in danger, and I'm not around . . . focus your distress and this device will pick it up. Does that make sense? Good. Now, Mini-Dia, do you know how to use Confusion?"

Was she . . . confused? She was. But Tsifor didn't see what use confusion had.

The human seemed to pick up on her uncertainty. "Can you feel this?" she asked. There was a push against Tsifor's mind, like being prodded by a big stick. It didn't exactly hurt, but it held the potential for hurt.

Tsifor nodded.

"Can you do something similar?"

So that was what she meant. Tsifor nodded and pushed back, though it was hard to direct any concentrated attack against that fizzing, gray barrier.

The human smiled tightly. "Good job! But do it to Princess, not me. Princess is the one who needs to learn."

"Ouch!" The torchic yelped a second later. "Hey, quit it, I can't—"

Tsifor pushed, harder this time, until the torchic couldn't say anything at all.

"That's enough. Now, Princess, where did you feel the attack?"

"Everywhere," the torchic muttered, directing a dark glare at both of them. She stuck her beak between her feathers and began to primp.

"Did she answer correctly, Mini-Dia?" the human asked.

Tsifor turned her head right and then left.

"Traitor," said the torchic.

"Well, we'll just have to keep doing it until she answers correctly, won't we?"

Tsifor looked over at the torchic dubiously. She was clearly trying to affect nonchalance with her grooming, but Tsifor could see the small tremors running through her body—and what's more, she could feel them. Could the torchic really take another direct attack?

They didn't get the chance to find out. There was a clatter outside and a loud rapping against the door. A mind buzzed behind the wood, bubbling brightly. The taste of it made Tsifor perk up.

"Lily? Hey, Lily, are you there?"

The human slid soundlessly from the bed and knelt by Tsifor. "Do you sense fear on her?" it whispered.

Fear? No, there was nothing but triumph and joy, undercut by a small tremor of doubt. Tsifor shook her head.

The human pulled open the door in one quick motion, sending the bright-human tumbling in. Tsifor eyed the insectoid pokemon that vibrated above her head warily. The yellow of its back was a clear warning to speakers. And behind them there was . . . something else. A floating blank. A _nothing_.

Tsifor understood now that the blank-human had found a way to cloak her mind. But this thing just didn't have one. It was a screaming patch of nothing, more jarring than simple absence. Tsifor watched, trying to hold back a shiver, as it hung in the air, staring with sightless pits of eyes.

"Where'd that rag-pile come from?" the torchic asked. She didn't feel afraid, just curious.

"Despia evolved into a ninjask!" the bright-human burbled. "I knew she was getting close, but it was still such a shock when it happened. And it worked just like how it says in the textbooks! Her shell sat there for a moment, so I thought something had gone wrong, but then—it was like the air got darker around it and started to move like a river. The shell went gold and spread out like wings."

The tremor of doubt intensified suddenly, into a discordant note.

"It's a bit hard to take in, honestly." The bright-human gestured at the buzzing yellow insect. "I mean, this is Despia, right here. I saw her change. But—" She looked over at the floating patch of void. "That's Despia, too . . ."

"No." The blank-human's voice had the flatness of a razor blade. Out of instinct, Tsifor reached out to touch her mind, but the fizzing shield rebuffed the gesture.

"What do you mean?"

The blank-human shrugged. "You know that it's a shell, right? Something that was meant to be shed and left behind. Only, it's still here, made new with life. But what kind of life is there for a shell? A life with no purpose. No meaning. Nothing to do but exist, shielded from every need and impulse, trapped behind its own perfect guard. You could call it Despia, but that's not its name."

The void thing turned in the air, the black moons of its sightless sockets fixed on the human. A hiss came from its mouth—not an intentional utterance, but as if stopped up air had suddenly found a point of departure.

"I think it wants to hear more," the bright-human said timidly. "This is the first time I've seen it react to anything anyone's said. I wasn't sure it could even hear. I mean, it doesn't have ears or antenna."

The blank-human laughed sourly. "You hear just fine, don't you," she told the blank thing, which continued its pantomime of staring.

"Don't look at _me_ for answers," the human said sharply. She turned to Tsifor. "Come on, we'll continue this outside. Less psychic interference to throw you off. You don't mind, do you, Casey?"

The torchic nudged her, and together they trailed the human out. But the dark imprint of the blank thing didn't lessen in her mind. When Tsifor finally craned her head around, she saw it floating slowly behind them, following. She turned back, uneasy.

_Tsifor-ka_, she heard her mother's voice saying, chiding and fond, _my little bird. _

_Just what have you gotten yourself into?_


	4. The Break

"Report, Diamonda."

The voice had the cold, threatening timber of an unsheathing sword.

The gardevoir sunk into a deep bow. _My lady, she keeps mind shielded. I fear I taught her too well—at this distance, I am unable to penetrate through._

"And her companions?"

_The torchic is an open book and the psyling is too immature to notice intrusions. But they lack insight, my lady. She tells them nothing that is not already obvious. Nothing of her intentions. The human who sticks to her like a wurmple is similarly clueless._

"A pity. You must fix your mind on her day and night, Diamonda. Even the most well-trained are liable to slip, in moments of fear or anger."

_The young mistress is prone to none of these emotions, my lady._

Diamonda caught the brief flash of pride that warmed her lady's voice when she answered. "I know. Even so, do not relax your vigilance."

_My lady . . ._ The gardevoir hesitated, unease apparent in its tone for the first time. _There is something else. A shadow-shell, what you humans call shedinja. It follows her now. Its presence is distorting, like a void through which nothing survives passage._

"An intentional maneuver?"

_I do not know. But if you sent me to retrieve her, I am sure I could—_

"No." The word was accompanied by the mental sense of a steel gate clanging shut. "And I will not tell you again. I wish to understand this—this _temper tantrum_—before I quash it. Otherwise, it may happen again. We deal with problems once, Diamonda. Only once."

~0~

The Lily of Death woke.

Out of habit, she held her eyes closed, letting her chest rise and fall without modulation. The mantra ran through her mind. _My name is Lily. I am on a pokemon journey. My life is what I make it._

Princess was nestled against her side, like an ember of hot coal. The mini Diamonda was slumped at the base of the bed, dozing soundly. Lily worked herself out from the covers without waking either of them. It wasn't hard. Lily doubted the torchic would have woken even if Lily shook her. She had underestimated the toll psychic training would take on the small pokemon.

It was 5:03 am and the window peered out onto a darkness indistinguishable from night. Lily dressed quickly and applied make-up. Once her stretches were complete, she set about sharpening her knives. The ritual was calming. Lily could feel her thoughts focus as she worked.

_Too easy_.

It shouldn't have been so easy to get this far. When she'd left, Lily had been prepared to face the Violet or the Orchid. She'd even prepared an emergency means if Diamonda came. But the grunts sent after her so far had been on an almost insulting caliber. Clearly, Ma wasn't even bothering to try.

Why, though? Tacit acceptance? Permission implied by lack of constraint? It was a nice thought, so Lily distrusted it.

Or she could be plotting something.

Knowing Ma, it was probably the plotting.

A loud snore rose from the bed. The torchic rolled over into the space Lily had vacated, let out a confused snort, and slipped seamlessly back into sleep.

Lily watched the small fire-chick, feeling oddly _snug_. As if there was a warm jacket wrapped around her chest, the kind that trapped heat close to the skin.

5:28am. Time to train. But she didn't _want_ to wake the torchic.

Lily had never been allowed to sleep late a day in her life. Even when she'd run a high fever, Diamonda had still led her stumbling down to the gym for morning exercises.

"This won't kill you," Ma liked to say. "Other things will."

But Lily was in charge here, not Ma. If she wanted the torchic to stay sleeping, all she had to do was . . . not wake her up.

She sat still for a moment, marveling at it. _I'm not going to wake her up!_

The cafeteria was deserted when she arrived. There was no hot food set out yet, just some cereals and packaged breads. Lily rummaged around in the cabinet beneath the counter, until she found an unopened container of cereal. She took a seat in the back corner and ate the flakes slowly, surprised by the sweet taste. Too sweet, really. Not vitamin efficient. But . . . not wholly unpleasant, either.

The shedinja was watching her. It had been waiting in the hallway when she left her room and, though sight was not the correct word, Lily knew when she was being observed.

It wasn't a threat, so she ignored it.

Casey was harder to ignore. And louder. The girl staggered in, clearly half-asleep, toasting and buttering two slices of bread before she noticed Lily.

"Oh!" she said, her mouth demonstrating the sound, falling open wide. Her teeth were white and slightly crooked. "You're up too!"

It was as if she was stuck in a state of pleasant surprise. Lily watched carefully as Casey took a seat at her table and began to eat, the toast crunching noisily in her mouth. Her bangs flopped messily over her forehead.

"It likes you," the girl said after she'd polished off her first slice of toast. "The shedinja."

"I suppose so," Lily answered noncommittally.

Casey frowned. "I've never trained a ghost pokemon before. I know people always say that they're different, but how different really didn't sink in until now. I don't know what it wants from me. When it's hungry. If it's sad. Why it keeps leaving its pokeball to wander. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing."

"You aren't wearing your pokeballs today," Lily observed, when the silence began to stretch.

"Uh, no!" Casey sounded surprised. "I'm giving my pokemon a break from training this morning, since ninjask just evolved. I thought I'd take a walk and get some snaps in. It rained last night and everything always looks so bright and happy after that, you know. Uh, you could come along, if you wanted?" Her voice went high with uncertainty.

A morning off from training? How bizarre. Lily could see why most trainers didn't amount to anything, if this was how seriously they took it.

Still, leaving the pokemon center would give her a chance to test her theory. It was a little risky, perhaps, but a risk worth taking.

Lily nodded.

"Oh-oh really? That's great!"

Lily watched with amusement as Casey all but shoved the second slice of toast into her mouth and stood. The light was transitioning from gray to gold as they stepped outside. Casey had been right about the rain. The soil was wet enough that their shoes left deep imprints in the earth. Difficult conditions not to leave a trace in. Not that she had to worry about that, this morning.

As they entered the route, Casey drew in a breath. "It's so green," she said happily. "So many different greens."

Lily wondered what she was going on about. Green was—green. A color, and not a particularly important one. Though it was true that the bright yellow-green of the clover was not the same as the deep greens of the segmented tree leaves, Lily didn't see the point of noting the gradation.

They walked down the leafy route in silence, feet sinking into the damp soil, until they reached a small pond. A surskit was skating by, utilizing the surface tension of the water to stay aloft. Casey crouched down, raising her camera. Lily watched as she fiddled with a series of nobs. Her gaze drifted leftwards, where a plant spiraled up from the soil, its leaves cupped like cyclones. Bright clusters of yellow buds grew inside.

Lily fingered one leaf. Maybe it was the way the water sleeked the surface, but the green seemed to have a quality of depth. She stared at it, eyes narrowed in concentration.

When she looked up, a beautifly was hovering inches from her nose. Lily met its gaze calmly, letting her breath still. The beating of the beautifly's wings was slow and regular. Had it been preparing a spore attack, the wing-speed would have been faster.

The bug's antenna extended slowly, until the quavering instrument was almost touching Lily's nose. Probably attempting to determine if Lily was a threat to her nectar-collection. Best to simply keep still and endure it.

_Click!_

Lily spun at the sound, a knife sliding down into her hand.

"Sorry!" yelped Casey. She couldn't see the knife, but she could see the expression on Lily's face. "The moment was so perfect, I couldn't help it!"

As Lily opened her mouth to answer, the opal ring on her finger blazed red. Without another word to Casey, she took off at a sprint down the muddy path.

~0~

"Not again," the torchic had moaned when the window shattered and a net dropped down on them.

_What do you mean, again_? Tsifor hissed as they swung back and forth in the net. The motion was making her stomach sick. _Does this happen to you often?_

"Define often," the torchic muttered. "Look, just don't mess around with fighting back, okay? My human will come and get us."

The strange thing was, the torchic didn't mean the words as a comforting lie. She oozed confidence mixed with mild annoyance, without a trace of anxiety.

Tsifor couldn't say the same for herself. She didn't like the shape of these humans' minds. They curved inward, darkly, and reeked of fear and greed like wild garlic.

"Now we wait," declared a human that Tsifor decided to consider the leader, when they had entered a small cabin. He had the build of a fighting pokemon and hair cut close to his scalp. His large fingers drummed aggressively against the table.

The two other humans exchanged glances, a physical manifestation of the shared tremor of doubt passing between them.

"Boss," said one, a smaller female with bright blue hair, "are you sure about this? I mean, this is the Lily we're messing with now."

The boss snorted. "All high and mighty, wasn't she? Well, she's on the outs now. Down in the madame's bad books. We're gonna _dance_ up the ranks for pulling this one off."

"Right," said the blue-haired human slowly, which was a bit strange, thought Tsifor, since in her head she was saying, _wrong_. "But I'm a bit confused. If she wanted the Lily brought in, there's other teams. The Lily's a little above our pay-grade, isn't she, Boss?"

"Dunderhead. That's the whole point. That's what's gonna make this so impressive when we pull it off. Now, come one, keep it professional. Doors and windows booby-trapped?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Gas masks ready?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, the moment she comes close, we release the sleep bomb and stick on the masks."

"Yes, Sir."

_Funny_, thought Tsifor, looking upwards. None of them had said a word about the broad ventilation shaft placed squarely in the ceiling. The one that appeared to be wiggling slightly.

"Maybe we should put on the masks now," piped up the blue-haired human. "Rumor says she's pretty fast."

"Hold your ponyta—" began the boss.

He didn't get the chance to complete the thought. A pellet shot from the ventilation shaft and hit him squarely on the jaw. At the impact, his body stiffened and crumpled to the ground. When Tsifor turned, the other two humans had already fallen.

There was a long silence. Then a loud boom made the walls of the cabin sway. A moment later, the front door swung open. The blank-human strolled in, her pony tail swishing gently.

"Hey guys," she chirped, looking them over. "Doing okay?"

"Fine, thanks!" piped up Kali. Her mind was warm and smiling.

The blank-human looked impassively down at the slumped bodies. "Hey, Mini-Dia. Which one was the least stupid?"

After thinking for a moment, Tsifor pointed towards the blue-haired female.

"Right."

Tsifor shuddered as two minds, slow and sticky, but nonetheless pulsing with life, flipped abruptly into darkness. It was too much.

She swayed backwards and fell into a faint.

~0~

Lily stood on one hand, keeping her breathing slow. Mini-Dia was sleeping on the bed. Her collapse hadn't been caused by poison, or anything similarly insidious. Simple psychic shock.

And an oversight on her part. Lily wasn't used to people that went around leaving their minds open for anything to come in.

Without a tremor, she switched hands. With the movement, she switched problems, from the psyling's collapse to the information she'd extracted from the least stupid grunt.

No Violet. No Orchid. And no Diamonda. She had been labeled yellow priority, capture at earliest convenience. It didn't make sense and Lily didn't like that. What you didn't understand was what killed you.

When the nervous knock came, Lily looked reflexively over to the mini-Dia, passed out on the bed.

"Lily?" The nervous voice came accompanied by another nervous knock.

With a sigh, Lily jerked open the door.

"I'm really sorry about taking that picture," Casey babbled the moment they locked eyes. "I guess I really disturbed you. I hope you're not too mad."

"I'm not mad," Lily said calmly. "I happened to remember an obligation."

"Right," said Casey, biting her lip. "That's good. Well, I was wondering—I thought you might like a copy. It turned out really well. You're beauti—I mean, it's a beautiful picture, I think." She held out a sheet of paper, standard print size.

After a moment, Lily took it. She shut the door and resumed her exercise.

_You're beautiful_, the babbling girl had meant to say. How amusing.

Lily checked her face in the mirror, but it was just the same as always—sharp cheekbones, angular eyes set equidistant from her arched nose. All the features were framed by glossy hair, professionally tinted blond. Her face had symmetry, which was not the same as beauty. Symmetry was an essential property of machines, necessary for the fulfillment of their purpose. And there was no denying her face was a useful one, good for smiles that opened doors.

She picked up the picture. The image was a close-up, her face and the beautifly's questing antenna squeezed together into the frame. Some interplay of light and distance had blurred out the features behind them into a haze of green. The shadows fell strangely on her in this image, softening every line of her face. Her mouth was ever so slightly opened and her eyes were angled upwards, almost wistfully, as if searching for something beyond the picture's frame.

Was this how she looked to the other girl?

_Beautiful_. Perhaps.

But if there was any beauty in that image, it wasn't hers. Casey was the one who had made it.

Lily set down the picture and folded herself into bed. By dint of long practice, her sleep was entirely dreamless.


End file.
